


Broken Hallelujah

by UnfortunatelyObsessed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, First Time, M/M, Smut, This Is For You, Worship, almost kinda hurt/comfort, if you like the aesthetic of smut, like idk, religious experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 19:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17209289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfortunatelyObsessed/pseuds/UnfortunatelyObsessed
Summary: Sometimes it's easy to forget Cas is an angel.Sometimes it's not.





	Broken Hallelujah

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyyyy my first smut piece

Dean couldn't believe it.

Cas was in his bed.

 _His_ bed.

And Dean was showering and getting ready because -- oh boy. They were about to _finally_ fuck.

Dean shut off the water and dried off as quickly as he could, trying to remember why Cas wasn't in the shower with him. Something about getting ready too? Some sort of surprise? Eh, who knows.

He stepped out of the bathroom to see Castiel waiting patiently on Dean's bed, completely naked.

Dean grinned at him and dropped the towel around his waist. “Hey there, tiger.”

Cas smiled brightly at him. “Hello. Are you ready?”

Dean laughed softly. “Been ready for years.” He walked over to Cas and pushed him back gently, climbing onto the bed over him. Dean bracketed his frame perfectly, knees at Cas's hips, elbows at his shoulders.

Castiel watched him in amusement. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean smiled down at him. “Heya, Cas.”

“Are you going to kiss me now? Or should I wait another ten years?”

Dean gave him a little grin and leaned in, capturing his lips for his own.

What started as soft kisses became slowly harder, more passionate, more frenzied. Dean tasted Castiel's tongue against his own, felt Castiel's breath across his cheek. He risked his fingertips at the ends of Cas's hair, and Cas held onto Dean tightly.

Dean bit Cas's bottom lip gently, earning himself a soft gasp and an even softer twitch of hips.

“Cas,” Dean mumbled softly against Castiel's neck, biting and soothing it over with his tongue. “Castiel.”

And even as Castiel was mumbling back, “Dean,” he saw it.

There, in his mind's eye, Dean saw that barn. Saw Cas walk in, wings silhouetted, sparks flying. _“I am Castiel, angel of the Lord.”_

Cas slowly dragged his tongue along the shell of Dean's ear, and Dean swallowed nervously.

“Cas-”

“Dean,” Castiel whispered back, trailing kisses down Dean's neck, sucking gently.

Dean groaned low, remembered where he was, what he was doing.

Cas, he told himself. He was doing _Cas._

Dean rolled his hips down against Castiel's, enamored with the soft keening noise Cas made. He brought their mouths together again and ran his fingers slowly down Cas's chest.

It was white hot fire.

Dean felt sparks against his fingers, felt his lungs pull in air and hold it, felt his heartbeat slow. _Angel,_ his mind told him.

Castiel parted Dean's lips with his own and slipped his tongue in.

 _Holy,_ Dean's tongue supplied.

He touched every inch of Castiel he could reach gently, reverently. He caressed his collarbone, his chest, his arms, his hands.

Castiel chuckled slightly. “Dean,” he mumbled against Dean's slack jaw, “are you going to lay here and hold my hand the entire night?”

Dean's eyes fluttered open and he looked down at Castiel. Castiel, angel of the Lord, smiling up at him.

He saw Cas's eyebrows crease in confusion as the world became blurry.

“Dean? Dean, are you okay?”

Dean took in a shuddering breath, unable to convince his body to move enough to wipe away the tears. He felt a balance where he was, touching Castiel's hands. Any movement would upset that.

Cas made to reach up to his face, but Dean whispered, “Don't. Don't move.”

Castiel was still as he watched and waited. Dean blinked a few times, gazing deep into eyes as blue as grace. He choked in a few breaths, hands shaking, and dove into another kiss, letting his body follow.

His hips rolled against Castiel's, his fingers intertwined, his tears coated their cheeks.

When Dean soon needed another shaking breath, Castiel studied his face.

“You can touch me, Dean,” Castiel whispered. “It's okay.”

Dean let out a sound halfway between a sob and a sigh of relief. He carefully traced his hands to Cas's cheeks, wiped his own stray tears from the holy face. He thumbed at Castiel's lips, earning himself a soft smile.

He wanted to tell Cas he loved him, tell him he had always loved him. But the feelings inside his heart went past love. Went past Earth. His heart was begging to _worship._

So that's what he did.

He let his lips gently kiss Castiel's neck, tried not to mourn over the hickey he had left on such blessed skin. He kissed down Castiel's chest, kissed a budding nipple, felt his own heart soar at the angelic moan. He traced shaking lines with his hands, tried to convince his own head it was okay to go lower.

“Dean,” Cas whispered again.

Dean was shaking against him, lips open and panting against the top of Castiel's stomach, tears flowing freely.

“Dean,” Cas breathed out.

Dean's voice came out choked and broken. “H-alle-lujah,” he croaked, fingers splayed across divinity itself. He caved, forehead falling against Castiel's chest, harsh sobs wracking his body. “H-Ha-ll-llelujah,” he sobbed out.

It was a moment before he felt soft fingers carding through his hair.

“Come up here,” Castiel whispered.

Dean cried harder, tears pooling on celestial skin.

Castiel gently hooked his hands under Dean's arms and guided him back up to his face. “Open your eyes, Dean,” Cas said gently.

Dean shook his head, covered his face with his hands.

Cas kissed each of the fingers hiding Dean's face. “We don't have to do this,” he said, voice sincere.

Dean moved his hands, only to hide his face in Castiel's neck, fingers just barely daring to brush against his shoulders.

Castiel wrapped Dean up in his arms firmly. “I am just as content to hold you, Dean,” he tried.

“Hosanna,” Dean whispered back.

Castiel held him until the shaking had subsided, until Dean could place his palm against Cas's skin again.

“I'm sorry,” Dean finally said hours later.

“There's nothing to be sorry about,” Castiel whispered back.

Dean's breath threatened to hitch again at that voice. He closed his eyes to the images of broken, burnt wings.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry


End file.
